


Cooling Off

by kupfermaske



Series: The Nibellian & Niwenian Compendium of Feel Good Tales [1]
Category: Ori and the Blind Forest, Ori and the Will of the Wisps
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Family, Family Fluff, Flirting, Fluff, Gen, Naru is cute and Gumo is cuter, Sibling Love, Summer, Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and guess who's the blusher, go on, guess, guess who's the flirt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:06:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23387830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kupfermaske/pseuds/kupfermaske
Summary: In which the family seeks respite from a particularly hot summer's day.
Series: The Nibellian & Niwenian Compendium of Feel Good Tales [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1682206
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	1. Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Summer is a pain at times.

_Had inanimate objects been able to speak, the little wicker fan would have said something_. 

It would have given thoughtful words of compassionate consolation, further expressing profound empathy, utmost sincerity; and a deep, meditative understanding of the situation. _Tell me about it_ , or a simple _I know, I know_ , are the first two phrases that come to mind on what it would have said.

But given that such things are sadly exempt from the blessing of speech; how much more so the gift of life, the fan could only move up and down in repetitive, monotone, wicker-woven silence...

As a rather tired Ori used it to cool both himself and Ku, who was also equally made sluggish by the summer heat.

Long story short: today was very hot. It was also less dramatic and dire than the fan would have preferred, had it been alive; which it -- and this was most irrefutable -- wasn't. Further, fans don't think. 

Fans _can't_ think.

Long story long, however: the hot season was well imposed upon the forest by now, the days growing longer in this time of year as the flying, burning ball of flame that was the sun took longer to roll across the sky. As if taunting those below, its prolonged presence within a single cycle exasperated the Nibellians, the luminary of the day zealously reminding them of their helplessness regarding its bright, shining mercy -- or lack thereof.

And on the correlating subject of bugs (which, really, it isn't; but are you _really_ paying attention?); when it was day, hordes of crickets would dominate fleeting moments of sunny silence with their incessant symphonies; unaffected by the heat, whereas fireflies would simply apparate from nowhere and lazily drift about in tall patches of weedy grass come nighttime.

Both bugs taste good, at least, Ku commented once.

However; mosquitoes! Oh, the buzzing nuisance that was mosquitoes. They cared not if you were already overwhelmed by the heat. Even when sleeping dreamfully, one might rouse from their peaceful slumber only to scratch themselves into tatters till the crack of dawn; to another day of Feeling-Very-Hot. 

Even Ku, who managed to snatch one in her beak the one time, said that they were “best left to the frogs and lizards” in a rather disdainful tone.

So everyone turned to Gumo, hoping that he would find a solution to the problem (the mosquitoes, _especially_ at night) by means of inventing something; something that could shield them from the nuisance that, and this was most important: didn’t require the wrapping up of themselves in warm blankets.

Summer wasn't _all_ bad, though. If there was one good thing about it, it was that fruits and berries tasted better from longer, unadulterated baths in sunlight, making them richer in colour and _much_ sweeter and juicier. And for Ku, especially after rains where she would then venture out to swamps and bogs and also wreak muddy havoc all over her feathers from doing so, summer also brought out more insects; both for her to eat, and for the others to find as much as they possibly could, collect them, preserve them. After all, not much food was gathered during winter and early spring, generally speaking.

But(!) to reiterate; as for downsides, it was simply the heat and those pesky mosquitoes. Yet with even just two simple problems; if one were to be subjected to them all the time, especially without an _effective_ remedy; one would probably have their sense of vexation inflate with subtle, but effective constancy throughout. Then the question of _that_ bubble popping turns into a “when” from an “if.”

So that's where they were. 

Ori and Ku, now, sat together whilst the former of the two fanned them. Naru reminisced to herself whilst she added finishing touches to a newly weaved, wide-brimmed straw hat. And Gumo was putting together what seemed to be a rectangular frame. 

The frame's tall height and slender width roughly matched his own. But what really made it special, however, was the peculiar addition of pegs. Little nails of chipped stone and bone, dozens of them, were hammered onto each of the four wooden bars in straight lines, all them nailed onto the one same side. It hadn't been said, but whatever he was planning to do; everyone was hoping that it would be for the mosquitoes.

Concurrently, everybody but Gumo sat at the entrance to the cave, the other three consciously staying just within the shadows. This was because while being inside proper shielded them from unrelenting sunlight, today the apparent scarcity of winds and clouds in the air and sky made their home, essentially, a walk-in dirt-and-stone oven. 

It was also because they were made too lazy -- too unbothered, more like -- by the stagnant heat to head out and sit under a tree, even if it may or may not have been fruit-bearing. They had food already, inside; and they further had no real plans as of today. Thus their best (perceived) option was to sit at the threshold and move deeper inside, in slight increments, as the sun's angles shifted by the day's drawn-out progression.

Despite all measure, however, Ori and Ku's situation haven’t improved by much. That much was very clear to see.

For the fan, anyway; which was still very much unliving and utterly inanimate.

_Not even I, who survived the molten fires of Mount Horu, am immune to the throes of ordinary heat exhaustion!_ thought Ori in wan but apt wit, as he … _smack!_ … unsuccessfully tried to swat a mosquito to the wall with a certain (unliving) object.

"Ow…" was what the fan would have said if it were alive; which it wasn't.

“Fan…” was what Ku indeed said, the she-owlet's voice a soft pleading.

She had splayed her wings out, her back against the mossy wall, to aerate her feathers. Had Ku folded them against her sides as she normally did, it would have made things less comfortable for her. It was a wonder as to how she hadn’t passed out yet.

“Coming, coming…” Ori said, slowly, looking around, before lashing out and --

_Smack! Smack!_

“Hrmm…” murmured the Spirit Guardian, attending to his sister in resignation. He kept an eye out, though.

"Ow...ow…" was what the fan would have murmured; if it could have, which it didn’t.

It was then that Naru completed her project.

Having wrapped a light purple ribbon (the pigment squeezed from collected grape skins) around the top as the final touch; the two tail ends of the ribbon purposefully made to dangle off from the hat's wide brim, Naru adorned herself with the new accessory. It was a snug fit atop her head; not too tight, not too loose. Just right. Perfect, even. 

She hum-sighed to herself, satisfied, clasping both of her night-black hands atop her twilight purple rotundity as she reclined opposite to Ori and Ku, her new source of shade already working wonders for her.

Her tender gaze then fell upon the inseparable two as they endured the heat, together, in relative silence ( _h_ _ow well-behaved they are_ , Naru remarked inwardly). She then turned her hatted head and saw Gumo inside, who was now securing the corners of his frame with sturdy twine after hammering in even more nails of chipped bone and stone. The gumon was unaffected by the hot conditions if anything.

 _Such a passionate worker_ , Naru thought. _Always absorbed in his projects when he devotes himself to them. Like me; with the children._

She again turned her head and looked beyond with that thought; facing out towards the windless, sunny day but seeing nothing in particular. 

_Not to say that he cares any less of them than I do, nor is he any less good than me, or otherwise, of course,_ she added in moderated afterthought.

Naru was quiet for a while, a ruminant expression gracing her hat-shadowed features. She pursed her lips, a subconscious habit of hers whenever she thought hard on things. She further fiddled with her thumbs. Fiddle, fiddle, fiddle.

Then she said, announcement-like: “What say we all visit the Ginso Tree?”

Ori's pure-white ears perked up at that. Even Ku's half-lidded, fire-coloured eyes rekindled a spark of brightness.

"Not a bad idea," praised Gumo, apparently having overheard the suggestion as he finally lumbered over to the entrance where everyone else was. He wiped a lanky forearm across his round forehead, his perspiration now visible, being up close. "Good timing too. I just finished the frame."

"What _is_ that for, anyway?" Naru inquired, tilting her head slightly as the dangling tail ends of her hat's ribbon followed suit. But just as she stood to prepare, and Gumo was about to answer --

_Smack!!_

“Gotcha!” cried Ori. Ku raised her black wings and hooted in cheer, whilst Gumo and Naru cracked up lightly as well.

Then Gumo looked at Naru, shrugged and simply said: "I'll see."

Naru was left slightly bewildered by that response but she was intrigued all the same.

And so the world lost one mosquito, whilst a motley family gained a plan with a wordless wicker fan privy to it all, unliving or otherwise. It probably would have expressed disgust, though, if it were alive, which it wasn't; at the small telltale stain on its woven surface.

“Ugh…” was what it would have said; which it didn’t, simply because it couldn’t.


	2. Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theme: "New River" by The Oh Hellos
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VWd9f60XDmk

_"Where are we off to, Cap'n Ku?"_

"To faraway lands, First Mate Ori, to unknown worlds! We will fight bad guys, solve hundreds-of-years-old mysteries, find ancient treasures and weep with heartache. And eat worms. Berries for you, though.”

"Where are we going, then?"

"To find the long lost pieces of a key; the key to the … the Riggly Ring. Yeah! And to find them, we gotta pass through the big. Massive. Deadly -- "

"Marshes of Death?!"

"The Deadly Marshes of Death! Hold fast, First Mate. This is gonna get crazy!"

And as they stood together, Ori wide-eyed with an intrepid Ku beside him, their valiant vessel nearing this perilous point in their perilous voyage … 

Swimming headfirst into a small patch of creek cattails was Naru, as Ori and Ku sat atop her buoyant purple belly. Naru couldn't help but smile amidst the tale-weaving the two children conjured, the mother letting their imaginations run wild in all their whimsy glory.

The plants that emerged from the flowing waters surrounded them as they floated through it, relentlessly tickling them and causing the two 'seafarers' to laugh out declarations of pain and utmost distress. 

This was very, very serious.

"The -- haha! -- reeds are -- ha! -- too much! Too tickly! Haha!"

"Stay -- hoo-hoo! -- focused! Find -- hoo-hoo! -- the key!"

Loudly giggling and hooting as they battled their weedy assailants, Ku and Ori bent down and plunged either talon or hand into the cool water, grabbing the first thing they could touch.

"Drat, only one half!"

Ku produces a mossy, rectangular rock.

"Not to fear, Cap'n! I got the other half."

Ori brings out a smooth, oval stone.

"We found it, Cap'n, haha!"

"Let's get outta here, hoo-hoo!"

And Naru quietly follows the cue, using her feet to paddle her way out whilst trying her utmost not to laugh. The figurehead of a ship -- beautiful as it might be -- doesn't talk, after all. At least not to them.

It was about mid-afternoon when this epic journey took place. The family had arrived roughly an hour earlier and already had plenty of time to settle in and get comfortable with the spot they chose.

They actually had had a massive wrench thrown into their original; last-minute summer escape plans. Upon arriving at the Ginso Tree another hour prior, they quickly discovered that they weren't the only ones with the same idea this hot day.

Countless other forest denizens had sought the waters of the tree, filling up the major rivers to the point where there were more visitors than riverbank space. It had been noisy, overcrowded and most definitely _not_ what the family had wanted. Yet they simply couldn't have _gone back._ Not after travelling all this way.

So they improvised.

Picking one of the rivers at random, they had gone downstream. And as the waters split off into tributaries, and tributaries into streams and canals; the further they went, the deeper they were embraced by Nature's fold. No longer could they hear the loud bickering and splashing of the gatherings that formed so close to the Ginso Tree. Instead, it gave way to creamy birdsong and the refreshing ripplings of the waters that flowed alongside them. 

And then, they saw it.

It had been a little uncanny if anything. There were no signs of usage; ancient or recent or otherwise. It was as if some powerful and sage giant, many years ago, had foreseen that there would be a motley gaggle of woodland creatures who would come to this place someday and thus left something for them. There was no means to prove this fantastical theory, of course.

All of it seemed natural, yet it didn't seem so at the same time. Its paradoxical yet elegant nature alone was what drew them to it. It was like it had been meant for them, and for them alone; like it had been waiting for them for but an age and a day.

What they had stumbled across was a fairly-sized circle bounded by large, mossy, flowering stones that had sunk in varying depths into the ground. Located right next to the stream, the sunken stones anchored and further raised the surrounding soil, just enough, making a miniature plateau so that the flowing waters didn't climb up and spill inside. Within, the space was big enough to comfortably sit them all together _and_ allow a small fire. There even was a slight depression in the centre where the ashes could fall into.

"Is it even a question?" Naru had murmured, in awe.

No-one replied. There had been no need for an answer. Its presence alone had been the sole reason.

And that's where they had been the past hour.

And within that same hour; whilst the others swam, Gumo sits in the circle with his (un-ribboned) straw hat, the inventor delving into his new project whilst a small yet steady fire burns nearby. A straw bowl of plump fruit had been submerged in the flowing stream for them to be cooled and eaten cool, whilst a line had been cast the third time this afternoon; two fish now roasting above the flames, fitted onto spits. Ku was starting to eat other things as of late, asides from insects.

Gumo had also brought his newly built, wooden frame to this outing, along with a basket of tools (Naru had brought the food basket). Using a fishbone as a needle, Gumo works away at his loom.

He had acquired the thread by stripping down the particularly stringy, stretchy yet sturdy reeds that grew in this river, which he had found by simple coincidence. The pale wires stretch at haphazard angles and lines across the loom's frame, being woven into a tight mesh with no discernible pattern to this tapestry-looking oddity.

Whatever it is, Gumo is hoping that it will work. He occasionally has to stop and swat at a mosquito that would bother him, which only pushes him forward. At one point, his hat almost fell into the fire whilst he defended himself!

The sheer audacity.

But look! Who dares approach?

Whilst weaving, Gumo hears the sound of approaching footsteps; the scrabbling of talons and hooves on dirt and soil. He turns to look at the campsite’s entrance and sees Ori and Ku rushing forward. Naru follows a distance behind them, river water dripping down her soaked, furred form, a small smile on her face.

"Look, First Mate! The legendary Riggly Ring!"

"But where is the keyhole to the Riggly Gate, Cap'n?"

"Look no further, brave voyagers," says an exaggeratedly deep and imposing voice, to the wonder of the two seafarers.

"Whoa … The Grand … " Ku trails off.

"Gatekeeper." Ori finishes.

Gumo squats in the entrance, blocking the two travellers. He has taken off his hat for effect and puts on an expectant, uppity-looking expression on his face. Behind the two children, Naru places a hand over her mouth and suppresses a laugh, the mother having already shaken most of the water from her body. She was still damp, but nothing like sitting close to the fire wouldn't fix.

"Oh, Grand Gatekeeper! The key is broken. Shattered! Will you still let us in?" implores Ku, spreading her wings -- both good and bad -- and lowly curtsying. Ori falls to one knee and bows his head, his ears drooping.

"Rise, travellers," then booms the Gatekeeper. "Have you found the fragments?"

Gumo extends his spindly hands with the palms facing upwards. So Ku steps forth and places her rock in one of his hands. Ori does the same with his stone on the other.

And with mighty cracks and rumbles, the Gatekeeper begins the arcane process of rejoining them. 

Gumo clacks them together a few times, making some whirring and crashing sounds with his mouth throughout; the rush of the stream behind him filling the awkward silence, before eventually coming to a stop with the stones at an awkwardly conjoined angle.

"Youuu … mayyyy … enterrrrrr … "

And Gumo waddles backwards into the circle, letting Ku and Ori resume their adventure. When they aren't looking, the stones are tossed into the stream, already forgotten amid their reverie.

"Greetings, oh _Grand_ Gatekeeper," Naru smirks, stepping closer to the entrance with soft, moss-padded footfalls.

"And salutations, oh _Valiant_ Voyager," Gumo replies, bowing dramatically with a theatrical sweep of the arms. 

This earns him a light-hearted laugh (finally!) as he then stands proper again, the smirk on Naru's face already replaced with one of warm joy and -- dare he says -- pleasant surprise.

"Didn't know you had a bit of dramatic flair in you," Naru says, conspiratorially.

"Same goes with your ability to swim," Gumo says, smirking back.

"Oh, I see," Naru hums, suddenly smiling wryly again. She crosses her arms. "You're calling me fat, aren't you?"

She then has a hard time maintaining her composure as Gumo's face is stricken with deep dismay. _Oh, you sweet, sweet soul,_ Naru thinks to herself, which simply doesn't help her. She so wants to continue this, but she decides otherwise. She will relent.

For now.

"Only teasing, Gumo," she coos. She still smirks as she says that.

Naru then approaches him and gives him a quick peck on the forehead, leaving the Gumon charmingly stunned at her games whilst she enters the fabled Riggly Ring.

By the time Naru sits, Ori has already fished out the basket from the river, the colourful fruits glistening brightly under the afternoon sun. And just as he passes one to Naru, the fishing rod starts to tug.

"Got it!" Gumo declares, rolling over to it and firmly grasping it. And with a pull, a fish -- smaller than the previous two that are still cooking -- sails out of the water, glides through the air and falls right into Ku's beak. The owlet then spits out the hook, devoid of its tasty victim, to everyone's laughter.

"Mmm … I can still taste the worm inside!" Ku exclaims, clacking her beak appreciatively. “Two in one. What a deal. A bargain!”

“Little too much information, there … ” Gumo titters, a little embarrassed as the laughing fades off. He nonetheless gives Ku affectionate pats on the head, which does calm her down, the owlet cooing softly into his touch.

“Come, come,” Naru then says, inviting everyone to sit down with gestures of the arm as Ori passes the fruit basket. Gumo and Ku follow, the Gumon taking the cooked fish off the fire and laying them on a washed flat rock as a plate for the owlet.

And for a while, the sounds of quiet but comfortable eating; munching crunchy fruit, pecking sizzling meat and hungry swallowing fill the circle. The stream close by continues to ripple and rush, whilst ducks paddle about and occasionally flutter their wings in the cool water to clean their feathers. Cicadas and grasshoppers continue vying for the title of ‘Loudest Summer Insect’ whilst birds simply sing. That was another competition on its own. The fire continues to crackle and burn. Peeled fruit skins along with fishbones get tossed into the river with soft splashes. Frogs and toads croak somewhere.

Then a sudden loud _smack!_ cuts through all that like a knife.

Ori grumbles to himself, the spirit rubbing his arm in irritation. “They just can’t leave us alone, can they?”

The mosquito in question didn’t seem to learn its lesson, either. It kept hovering within the circle, waiting for the next opportunity to present itself. Or to get smacked. There was no third option; mosquitoes tasted awful and Ku had already learned her lesson.

Then Gumo says: “Not if I have a say in the matter.”

Ori then feels something light descend upon him. It’s smooth to the touch, fine, flexible and … see-through?

“Did you make a blanket, Gumo?” inquires Naru as several pale flowers lie in a pile next to her. She had been collecting them from the stones whilst the others ate.

Ku examines the empty frame that reclines against one of the stones, tilting her head at it.

“Totally not a blanket,” Ori says, pinching and brushing his hands against the material as two clothed peaks form from his horns. “Way too thin. Doesn’t even feel warm.”

Gumo clasps his hands excitedly, his eyes bright, his smile brighter. _It must be working,_ everyone else thinks.

He then simply waits. Ku opens her beak to speak, but he raises a spindly finger to his lips. The owlet obeys and remains quiet.

The flames crackle; the waters ripple.

Then, with the same finger, Gumo points towards the mosquito. All eyes follow.

The insect hovers. It flitters. It hums as it drifts closer to Ori. 

And closer, and closer, and -- 

It hits the fabric. It draws back, as if in confusion. Hits it again.

And again. 

And again.

“Some Grand Gatekeeper I am, huh?” Gumo proudly says as he puts his hat back on, crossing his arms and watching as the insect fails to pass through the barrier that surrounds Ori. Naru rolls her eyes but smiles proudly for him. And Ku extends her wings, eyes wide.

“We found the treasure of The Riggly Ring!” loudly proclaims the owlet. “The Mosquito Shield!”

“It’s only an Ori-sized patch at the moment,” Gumo says to Naru, then sitting cross-legged beside her as Ku runs over to the spirit. “But I can make more and sew them together. It’ll take a while to make something big enough that can surround us in the cave. It took me an hour to make that, along with lots of reeds.”

“You’re forgetting something,” Naru then says in a sing-song voice.

“What?” asks Gumo.

“Close your eyes.”

Gumo does so with an eyebrow raised, a smile of interest on his face. With closed eyes, he hears a rustling. Naru heaves softly beside him, then … 

His hat is taken off. He hears it rustle as Naru sets it down somewhere. Then something else; something similarly lightweight, descends upon his head. 

“Don’t pull the petals off,” Naru lightly gushes. 

Gumo takes this as his cue to open his eyes. He then reaches up and carefully feels for it; being gentle as Naru had asked. And finally, his curiosity takes him. He takes it off his head with both hands and looks at it. 

His eyes widen at what he sees.

“I’m saying I can weave, too,” Naru says, her hands joined in delight; her smile radiant. “You just have to make me a frame.”

The flower crown does look quite nice. Graceful white and purple risporems spun together with dainty orange and yellow yadsies; it delivers a colourful contrast to the Gumon’s navy blue tones. The inventor now carefully; reverently, inspects the gift he has received. So that was the deal with the flower pile, he now realizes.

“And you wove this without me seeing it,” Gumo remarks, further astonished. And for the first time, he suddenly feels appreciative of his dark colours. Naru is none the wiser as heat rushes to his cheeks.

Naru takes the crown from him. “If only you could see … ”

Gumo bows his head and feels it lightly settle upon him again. When he looks back up, Naru is looking over him with a look of firm affirmation. A glimmer is held within her eyes.

“ … what beauty I see now. Not even a clear river’s reflection could show it,” Naru finishes with a sigh.

“Who’s the poet, again?” Gumo quips whilst crossing his arms, a genuine, bashful grin unable to remain hidden.

“And there it is. That smile was the missing touch to perfection.”

“Naru, please -- ”

And as Naru pries Gumo’s hands from his eyes, Ku and Ori watch them whilst swaddled, together, in the Mosquito Shield. It needed a better name.

“How does Mom do that?” Ori asks in wonderment. “She just makes him melt so easily.”

“I dunno. But I like what I’m seeing,” Ku whispers back, not taking her eyes off the two.

“I swear if you start learning what she’s doing -- ”

“Don’t give me any ideas, Ori. Unless … you want me to?” 

Her eyes flash with a mischievous glint after she says that.

“Not you too!”

“Admit it, First Mate! You wanna be smothered in hugs and compliments! Cap’n Ku’ll give you hugs and compliments!”

“Not if I can’t help it!”

With that, the Shield is thrown off and the children start running around again, Ku calling out words of sappy praise to Ori with her wings unfolded, ready to hug Ori who so deftly evades her feathered embrace. Gumo and Naru simply watch this happen and stand together, side by side, with arms around each other. It was also then that Naru realizes something.

“Did you swim yet, Gumo?”

“Nope.”

“Let’s fix that, shall we? The water’s just amazing. Take off your crown.”

“Only if you take my hand, in exchange,” Gumo then grins.

Naru wasn’t expecting that. It was her turn to have heat rush to her cheeks, and this time her pure-white face showed it without mercy. Gumo did have his moments sometimes.

What comes round goes round in the Riggly Ring. 

That place had truly been meant for them that wonderful hot summer afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, I ship them. Kinda just happened as I went along.


End file.
